


To Dream of Better Tomorrows

by LosttotheHoping



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer, Fringe, Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abandoned Works, Excerpts, F/F, F/M, Gen, Incompletes, M/M, OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9240338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LosttotheHoping/pseuds/LosttotheHoping
Summary: Oneshots, stories, drabbles and excerpts that never went anywhere, were abandoned, or that I lost interest in.  Time was spent creating them, on my part, however, so I give what there is of them to you.  Enjoy.





	1. Skye x Nat story (untitled)

**Author's Note:**

> I should start out by noting that most of what I post in this was written YEARS ago, quite literally. Ergo, it's probably not going to be as well written as my lastest works. Please keep that in mind as you proceed, but do feel free to comment!

It was a little past two in the afternoon, Skye bored out of her skull waiting for Grant to finish his meeting, when the techie realized she was being watched.  The perpetrator was a gorgeous green-eyed redhead of medium height, wearing black casual clothes and… well, a very unnerving stare.  Honestly, if not for that last bit, Skye would be tempted to hit on her.  As it was, the prodigy was contemplating barging in on Grant’s meeting, just in case.

She never got the chance, since Red was heading her way.  She moved with the smooth grace of a panther; by the time she seated herself on the bench beside the younger female, Skye was full-out staring with no subtlety to speak of.

A kind smile was offered.  “Natasha,” the other woman introduced herself.

“Oh my god,” Skye gasped in sudden understanding, completely missing the outstretched hand.  “You’re the Black- er, one of the- I mean- I had to listen to a month’s worth of rants from Fitz about you!”

Natasha - Agent Romanoff - quirked a brow at her, amused.  “I wasn’t aware he held me in such high regard…”

Skye couldn’t help her answering scoff.  “Oh please, call it what it is- a crush.”

The redhead laughed.  “I’ll have to thank him, then.”

And just like that, Skye’s bubble burst.  “Oh.”  Well, it probably shouldn’t surprise her.  For an organization of spies, she’d found that very few were legitimately interested in the same sex.

Natasha smiled again, knowingly, and checked her phone when it beeped.  She stood.  “Duty calls,” she said.  “I’ll see you around, Skye.  We should get dinner sometime.”  She waved and left.

Skye was unashamed to watch the sway of her hips as she went.  Until Grant coughed beside her.  “Um-”

“Shut it,” Skye said flatly.  He obeyed.

xXx

“I understand you met Agent Romanoff.”

Ruh-roh.  That was Coulson’s Daddy voice.  Slowly, Skye turned in her chair and batted her lashes at him.  “We’re getting dinner.”

“Dinner.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll have me back by curfew.”

Coulson frowned from his spot in the lab doorway.  “You should be careful, Skye.  Agent Romanoff rarely shows interest in someone for personal reasons.”

The brunette grimaced at him.  “C’mon, Dad, I’m a big girl, now.  I _can_ vet people for myself.  And I doubt she’d have any reason to kill me, before you suggest it- we’re both SHIELD.  Don’t worry so much.”

With a sigh that said he knew a lost battle when faced with one, the man left her alone, and Skye pouted a little.  Grant must have ratted her out.   _Men._

The text message alert on her phone chimed, and she pulled it out.  The number was blocked.   _‘When do you touch down next?’_

Curious, Skye hit reply and wrote, _‘Who is this?’_

_‘Natasha.’_

Skye felt a giddy thrill sweep through her chest, and grinned as she responded.   _‘Idk.  When duty calls, I guess.’_

_‘Can you get leave for Thursday evening?’_ the - incredibly hot - redhead asked.

_‘Maybe.  I’ll have to ask my Dad.’_  Skye got up and started out of the lab.  She was almost to Coulson’s office when she received a reply.

_‘Dad?’_

Skye giggled.   _‘CO.’_  She knocked on Coulson’s door.

“Come in,” he called.

The brunette stepped through the door and smiled at him.  “Can I have leave Thursday night?”

Coulson frowned.  “Why?”

“Uh, ‘cause I work myself to the bone for you and deserve a little R&R?” she suggested as her phone chimed in her hand.

He just kept frowning.  “... Fine.”

Cheering, Skye beamed at him.  “Thanks!” she chirped, and all but danced out of the office, glancing at Natasha’s text.

_‘Oh.’_

She smiled and sent a quick reply.   _‘It’s on!  BTW- how DID you get my number?’_

_‘:)’_

Spies.

xXx

As Skye sat waiting in a New York City cafe, fully caffeinated and vibrating on nerves, she wondered if she wasn’t over-dressed.  Hazel eyes flicked down to the gauzy bottom hem of her sky-blue skirt, then the translucent black half-sleeve of her blouse.  She had no idea where they were going on this excursion; Natasha had simply told her they were meeting here.  When Skye asked about dress code, she’d only gotten the word ‘ _Nice_ ’ in answer.  The redhead had been unreachable since.

Not for the first time, the techie wondered if Natasha had forgotten.  SHIELD life was hectic enough, the brunette was well aware of how easy it was to let one’s personal life slip away.

Sighing, Skye lifted her plastic eco-friendly cup, only to realize she was trembling faintly.  “Well, that’s enough coffee for _me_ ,” she muttered, putting it down.  She pushed it away with a finger.

“Don’t like it?”

Skye jumped and turned to see Natasha approaching from the door.  “It’s my third cup,” she defended, and held up a shaking hand.  “I’m half convinced I might be phasing out of sync with reality.”

The pretty redhead laughed and sat down across from Skye, pulling the cup closer.  She picked it up and sipped cautiously, then put it down with a grimace.  “ _Wow_ , that’s a lot of sugar.”

Giggling a bit nervously, the younger female sat back in her chair.  “I find it’s a common quirk with very smart people.  We’re like bees.”  She smiled.  “Of course, there’s the occasional anti-sweet person.”  She grinned pointedly at Natasha.

“Well.”  The spy smiled back.  “I’m not _anti_ -sweet.  But there _is_ a limit.”  She eyed the cup.  “I like _coffee_ in my coffee.”

The brunette let out a sheepish laugh and quickly changed the subject.  “So.  What’s the itinerary?  I’m pretty sure if I don’t know soon, I’ll implode.”

Natasha paused to give Skye’s outfit a once-over, and apparently found it up to par, because she gave the techie a warm smile.  “I have a standing invitation to a party with some friends,” she said.  “But before we go, I need to hash out a few details with you.”

Skye’s brow went up.  That was interesting.  “Like?” she prompted.

“If _anyone_ but Clint Barton asks, we’ve been dating casually for a month,” the redhead answered promptly, deadpan.

The techie blinked.  Talk about weird?  And that name was vaguely familiar…  where’d she hear it?  “Um…”  Skye frowned.  Clint Barton- oh!  One of the- a SHIELD Agent.  Right.  “And Agent Barton?”

“Redirect inquiries my way,” Natasha said with a smooth shrug.

For a second, Skye considered what that meant.  Natasha was worried about perception, and had obviously already said some things about them - though not necessarily _specifically them_ \- that needed to be backed up.  The brunette wasn’t really bothered that she may have been picked up precisely for this reason; if Natasha hadn’t found her attractive enough, she would have found someone else.  It wasn’t like the redhead had limitations of people wanting into her pants, and willing to lie to the woman’s friends to do it.

More importantly, the implication that Barton would be there probably meant these _friends_ were the Avengers.  Of course, they could also be SHIELD operatives, but Skye didn’t think so.  Word on the street was that Natasha spent the vast majority of her time with the Avengers, rather than any co-workers (Barton being the exception).  Still…

She offered a smile to the redhead.  “Does this mean I get to meet the Avengers?”

Natasha relaxed and smirked back.

xXx

_The_ Tony Stark met them in the lobby of Avengers Tower.  “Dear God, you weren’t kidding.”  His blue eyes raked over Skye assessingly, but she was far too busy battling techie-related urges to give it much thought.  And also fangirling.  A little.

“I said so,” Natasha was responding irritably.  “Tony, this is Skye.  Skye, this is- where are you going?”

Realizing her impulse check had been temporarily overridden, Skye backtracked away from the pretty shiny wall panel.  “Sorry,” she blurted, taking the man’s hand and shaking it quickly.  He looked amused.  “I was just coming to the sudden realization that you live in Candy Land.”  Pause.  “Is that a DNA interface?  Can I touch it?”

Tony Stark grinned.  “Yep, and no.  Party’s upstairs.  You’re late, but the big guy hasn’t returned with his date yet either, so you’re still golden.”

Smiling, Natasha slipped her arm through Skye’s.  “Lead the way.”

Tony eyed Skye again briefly - he seemed weirded out by something - and led the way to the elevators.  “So, how’d you crazy kids meet?  Spy expo?”

Skye snickered.  “How’d you guess?  Or did the classified strippers you hired last week rat us out?”

He snorted.  “You know, cyber stalking is _wrong._ ”

“Fortunately, I have _actual_ stalking to fall back on,” she shot back without missing a beat.

Tony laughed at that.  “Okay, I approve,” he said to Natasha.

The redhead smiled enigmatically as the doors opened with a beep.  Whatever she said was drowned out by the full force of Skye’s inner fangirl screaming in glee.   _So.  Many.  Avengers._  “Shiny…” she breathed, letting her date pull her along into a massive lounge.

“Tasha!  Who’s the babe?” a voice called as a familiar blond male approached with an unfamiliar redhead half a step behind.

Natasha released Skye and pulled Barton aside, leaving the techie with unscheduled ginger.  She stuck out a hand.  “Skye.”

The woman smiled and took the proffered limb.  “Pepper.  Nice to meet you, Skye.”

“Ditto.”  The brunette glanced around.  “I have the overwhelming urge to hug the wall.  This is the most brilliant- oh my god, muscles.”  She stared across the room toward Captain America and some mild-mannered-looking dark haired man with a faint smile on his face.   _Wow_ those were some pecks.  Didn’t anyone teach that man it was wrong to tease people?

Pepper laughed softly and followed her gaze.  “You’re easily distracted.”

Skye gave her a flat look.  “Not everyone has balls of steel _and_ inhuman immunity to man meat.  Most of us have to pick one.”

Pepper just smiled.

xXx

Eventually, Skye had been introduced to all the Avengers except Spider-man, who was absent.  She did get to flirt with a cute photographer friend of Tony’s though, until Natasha dragged her away to show off to the tech man himself.  They had a twenty minute argument debate about hacking methods, which was interrupted by Thor spilling mead down Skye’s shirt.  She was hoping it was deliberate; an unamused Natasha escorted her away citing new clothing.

“You’re getting along well,” the redhead commented once they were alone in her dark, cool room.

Glancing about at the red, black and steel theme, Skye nodded.  “Yeah.  Actually, once you get past the yummy, distracting muscles, everyone is pretty cool.  Rhodey was telling me about military drills at one point.”  She grinned at the other woman.

Natasha turned away from her closet with a black shirt and jeans.  Green eyes slid down Skye’s person.  “Strip.”

Skye’s mouth went dry.  She swallowed and opened it as the deadly woman stepped forward and set the clothes down on the end of the bed.  Cool fingertips ghosted over her hipbones, diverting anything the techie may have said, and the soggy shirt was tugged up.  Skye had no choice but to lift her arms, feeling rather like a school girl.

She only managed to find her voice when she noticed Natasha’s faint smirk as the shirt hit the floor with a wet _plop_.  “You’re enjoying this.”

“You’re not?”  Green eyes were amused.

Skye pouted.  “I didn’t say that.”

Natasha tugged down on the zipper of Skye’s skirt and helped her step out of it.  “Then what are you complaining about?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Skye sighed, watching the redhead pull away to reach for her clean clothes.

Skye smiled when her date was back with the shirt.  Natasha smiled back, but promptly stiffened when Skye moved in to press a kiss to her mouth.  A hand was suddenly on her shoulder, shoving her back.  “No, don’t!”

The techie landed, sitting, on the end of the bed with a grunt.  “What the…”  She looked up just in time to see the door slamming behind the redhead.

Startled and confused, the brunette sat there staring after her for a while, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong.  Then, the unsubtle hint finally sunk in, so she put her own sopping clothes back on and grabbed her purse off the floor.  She paused a beat, fighting the stupid, childish urge to cry.  She never cried on first dates.  It was so lame.

“JARVIS?” she said finally, voice trembling.  “Is there a cab number I can call?”

“ _Shall I call one for you, Miss Skye?_ ” the AI asked immediately.

She sniffled.  “Yes.  Please.  Thank you,” she mumbled.

“ _Of course._ ”

The brunette tugged up on her purse strap and left the room, only to find Barton standing in the hall outside.  “Agent-?”

He pushed away from the wall.  “Stay away from my partner, consultant,” he ordered thinly.  He didn’t wait for a response and stalked away.

Skye stared after him, upset, a little scared, and now fuming.   _Jerk_ .  Spies, all of them.  They were all jerks!  How dare he treat her like she’d done something wrong? she thought furiously as she went for the elevators.  All she’d done was try to kiss a cute girl!  A girl who, Skye would like to note, had been _undressing_ her five seconds prior to that!  Natasha was handing out all the signals!  Skye was just very highly receptive to the idea of a little nookie.

She jammed her finger on the L button when she was inside the elevator, and angrily dashed away tears.  God, she should have just _listened_ to frickin’ Coulson for once.  It would figure he’d be right about this, just like everything else.

The elevator dinged on the 20th floor, but the cute photographer took one look in at her and froze.  She glared at him, prodding the ‘close doors’ button.  “Take the next one,” the techie said irritably.  Parker obeyed, to her relief, and she was left to fume on her own the rest of the way to the lobby.

Thankfully, it was deserted.  The cab waited outside as promised.  “Airport,” she said once seated; the cabbie didn’t argue and pulled away from the curb.

xXx

After Grant’s botched attempt to ask her what happened - she threw books at him until he fled her room - no one dared try again.  For the most part, things settled down in the following week, and only a few days passed before the techie was able to put it behind her, deciding she didn’t need that kind of drama anyway.

Then she got a text.  From Tony Stark.

‘ _You should come over for drinks.  Bring your computer._ ’

She frowned, sitting in her bunk trying to wind down for some shut-eye, and hit reply.  ‘ _Uh, my last visit didn’t go so well.  Probably best if I just stick to my side of the philosophical debate that is SHIELD inter-relations._ ’

‘ _Awww, I’m not SHIELD.  I’m Tony Stark._ ’

He had a point, but still, she thought it was better she just not deal with them.  She didn’t answer him.  He texted her again anyway.

‘ _She won’t be here.  Scout’s honor._ ’

Skye smiled a little.  ‘ _You’ve never been a scout_.’

‘ _That is a blatant lie!  Who told you that?!  Was it Rhodey?  I bet he was telling you all about it.’_  And then, ‘ _C’mon, pleeeeaasseee?_ ’

She grinned a little, already rethinking the idea.  If she wouldn’t run into Natasha…  Thoughtfully, she did a quick Google search and pulled a picture off the net, sending it to her phone.  She then attached it to her reply and wrote, ‘ _Only if you wear this._ ’

There was a whole five minutes before he responded.  ‘ _Deal._ ’

xXx

Skye arrived slightly past two the next Thursday, arms full of tech and a huge grin on her face.  The doors opened for her as she approached.  “Thanks, J-man!”

“ _You’re quite welcome, Skye_ ,” JARVIS answered.  “ _Tony’s in the penthouse suite._ ”

“Okie!”  She beamed and entered the elevator.

On floor 13, it stopped and opened, Bruce Banner stepping on.  “Oh, hello.  Skye, right?” he asked, smiling at her.

The techie smiled back and nodded.  “One and only.  Nice to see you again, B.”

“Likewise,” he responded warmly, pressing the ‘30’ button.  He didn’t bat an eyelash at the nickname.  “Here to see Tony?”

“Mmhm!”  Smart guy.  “We’re spending the night with our two best friends- tech and booze.”

The raven-haired chemist laughed.  “Sounds about right.  Have fun,” he said as the elevator stopped.  “Tell him I said he’s late.”

She waved awkwardly around her belongings as the doors shut again.  Two floors up, they opened.  She froze, and Clint frowned at her, stepping aboard.  They passed a few floors in silence.  Then, “I’m not the boogie man.”

The techie swallowed.  “Didn’t say you were.”

“You’re pressed up against the wall, Skye.”

“Uh…  It’s comfy?”  His expression remained bland.  “Um, right.  Look, you don’t gotta worry.  Agent Romanoff is hot, but I _can_ take a hint.  Especially one that runs away like I have herpes.”

Agent Barton sighed and rolled his eyes, scrubbing a hand through his short hair.  “That’s not why she- uhg.  Just… call her.”

The elevator beeped as Skye blinked.  “Huh?”

“Skye!  Took you long enough.”  Tony was standing in front of the elevator, dressed as promised.  “Sorry, Clint, she’s mine.  Get your own!”  He reached in and pulled the mentally stumbling brunette out.  “Later!” 

“Tony-!” Clint began angrily, but the doors were closing between them.

Skye eyed the billionaire, particularly his very _pink_ suit.  "He could kill you with his pinky,” she pointed out after a beat.

Tony grinned as he turned her toward the living area behind them.  “Could.  Won’t.  I’m Tony Stark.”

She snorted.  “Fair enough.”  The brunette took her stuff to the coffee table by the couch as Tony went to mix some drinks for them both.  When she bent to plug in her laptop, her cell tumbled out of her jeans pocket.  Skye paused, remembering Clint’s advice- well, demand, really.   _Call her_.

That seemed a bit… _abrupt_ , though, she mused as she slid the plug into the outlet built into the table.

She scooped up the phone and sent a text saying simply, ‘hello’.  It couldn’t hurt.  Worst case scenario, Natasha ignored her.

After a minute, Tony came back to find her eying the stubbornly silent cell.  “Just so you know, I have at least five different pizza joints on speed dial.  Or, JARVIS does, anyway.”  He handed her something orange and red in a tumbler.

Skye beamed at him.  “Thanks.  Pizza actually sounds amazing.”

He narrowed his eyes.  “Moment of truth, then… Anchovies?”

She snorted.  “So long as you don’t put pepperoni with them, I’m alright with it.  Fitz eats that combo all the time, and it’s _gross_.”

It was Tony’s turn to look pleased.  “Skye, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friends-with-benefits-ship.”

Skye pressed a hand to her chest to cover up the fact that _hello_ , just propositioned by Tony Stark!  “Be still, my beating heart!”

The billionaire grinned and sat next to her with a drink and tablet.  “JARVIS, pizza!  Hold the pepperoni!”

“ _Yes, sir_ ,” the AI answered dutifully.

“Now.  Tell me about your glorious talents, maiden-fair, and maybe I’ll convince Thor to flash you,” Tony declared self-importantly.

She couldn’t help smiling gleefully, and immediately launched into a summary of skills.

Over the next five hours, they went back and forth over several of his - and her - projects, and even started one together.  Skye’s phone remained silent, but she hardly noticed.  Pizza came and went, followed by subs and shawarma - which was delicious, by the way - and a brief visit from Bruce about some sort of chemical compound that she was too buzzed to focus on.  By seven, they were both adequately drunk and playing the rate game on various people in SHIELD.

“Oh no, no, no- he’s at least a five!” Skye said loudly, as the elevator dinged in the background somewhere.  She’d lost track of where it was.  Left?  Right?  Behind her?

Tony looked pained.  “No, I wouldn’t give him higher than a two- and that’s actually _generous_.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Okay, just because you’re prejudiced against him, doesn’t mean he’s no longer attractive.”

Tony stuck his tongue out and looked past her.  “Ha- scale of one to ten, Director Furious’ attractiveness.  Go!”

Skye managed to twist around as the female voice answered.  “Four.”  Natasha had eyes only for the brunette though.

“Oh, c’m _on_!” Tony was whining, but the redhead cut him off.

“I’m going to borrow Skye for a second, Tony-”

“Oh, can I watch?”

Natasha glared at him.  “No.”

Skye got up before Tony could endanger his life (further).  “Lead the way,” she told the other female, and followed her - wobbling slightly - to the elevator.

No sooner had the doors closed was Natasha pushing Skye against the wall and kissing her.  The techie flailed, confused, and barely managed to kiss her back before the spy was pulling away, leaving Skye with mental whip-lash.  “Huh??”

Natasha stopped the elevator.  “Sex is a weapon, Skye.  My weapon.  That’s…”

Skye blinked a bit drunkenly, and was startled a second later by sudden understanding.  “Oh!   _Oh!_  I’m so sorry!  I didn’t even realize-” _click_ .  “Wait, does this mean you _do_ like me?”

Natasha was eying her with a neutral expression.  Duh.

Skye nodded.  “Right.  Stupid question,” she admitted, hashing it out as it went through her head.  “You brought me into your home and introduced me to your family.”  She gave the redhead the brightest smile she could manage.  Drunk.  “Um… can we start over?”

Something about the spy seemed to relax, though she didn’t so much as twitch.  “No, but… we can keep going if you like.  Just…”

“No sex?  Er…  Ever?” Skye asked, torn and a little dismayed.

Natasha shook her head.  “Just for now.  Please.”

Relieved, the brunette smiled and nodded.  “No problem.  I can wait.  Take things slow, and all that.”  She grinned at her… girlfriend?  Oh who cared- labels were overrated anyway.

The redhead smiled back slightly.  “Good…  I’m glad you texted me.”

Skye snorted.  “I actually thought you hated me or something…  Hawkeye said I should call.  Texting was less invasive…”  She blinked a few times when Natasha sprouted a twin.  “Woah…  Good scotch,” the techie murmured unsteadily.

Natasha braced a steadying hand on Skye’s shoulder, green eyes concerned.  “Skye?  How much have you- Skye!”

The brunette’s legs gave out, skin tingling pleasantly.  “I can’t…”  Darkness was narrowing her field of vision to the spy’s face.  Overhead, she could hear JARVIS’ voice, but couldn’t make out the words.

Natasha was spinning, mouth moving.  The words didn’t reach the techie.  “What?  Can’t…”  Her eyes wanted to close.  “Hel…”

Nothing.

xXx

“Skye!  Hold on!  Goddammit, Tasha…”

_Skye was on the plane, standing alone in the conference room.  “Hello?  Coulson?  Fitz?  May!” she called._

_No answer._

“No response.  Tony’s the worst.  Save him!  Don’t worry about the women…”

_“I can save you.”_

_Startling, Skye spun to see a beautiful raven haired woman leaning against the conference room wall, acid-green eyes fixed on the techie.  When Skye said nothing, she continued.  “They won’t.  They’re more concerned with Romanoff and the man of Iron.”  A sinful smile spread across red-painted lips.  “Just give me something in return, Skye.”_

“Agent Romanoff is in the clear, but-”

_“Who are you?” Skye asked, staring at the woman.  “What do you want?”  She knew she wasn’t as important as the Avengers.  It was just fact._

“Skye-!”

“Get back!  I’m trying to…”

_The woman smiled.  “I want Agent Coulson.  His life is mine.”_

_Skye shook her head.  “I refuse.”_

A loud keening.  “Save him!  Save Tony-!”

_Skye sobbed and turned toward a window behind her, through which she could see Tony’s fuzzy face.  “No!  Tony!”_

“Clear!”  A buzz, a thump.  The keening went on.  Skye’s eyes fluttered.

_“Then perhaps_ **_his_ ** _life is your price,” a deep male voice purred in her ear._

_Skye stiffened, and slowly turned.  Norse God and general alien supervillain Loki stood behind her, smirking smugly.  “... save him, and then I’ll tell you where you can find the staff instead.”_

The world flickered.  The keening stopped.

_The smile froze on his face.  “Why would I want it?”_

_She swallowed.  “To destroy it.”_

Someone was sobbing; white tiles swam over Skye’s head.  A warm hand clenched hers.

“Call it.”

“Time of death, 5-”

Someone close by suddenly sucked in a loud breath.  “Oh my god!”

Skye’s eyes closed, her last sight the back of Clint’s head.  She slept without dreaming.

xXx

It was soft conversation that woke her, somewhere nearby.  She’d been moved and the room was dark.  To her right was a partition and muted light.

“It was a miracle, all of it,” a familiar voice was saying.  “That’s what the doctor told me.  Neither of them should be alive, Tash, much less healing so rapidly…”

“Thor thinks Loki saved them.”  That was Natasha’s voice, followed by a sigh.  “I don’t know, Clint.”  A paused.  “How is she?”

“Alive.  Doing better than Tony, even.  Agent Ward says it’s a SHIELD thing.”

A snort.  “That’s specific.”

Skye sighed.  Grant was here?  What about Agent Coulson?  And Tony was…

She drew a shaky breath.  Loki.  That was _her_ doing.   _She_ had convinced him to save Tony.  And it had worked.

The dividing curtain was batted aside, and Skye automatically closed her eyes.  A beat passed, and the curtain rattled again.  Skye kept her eyes closed, listening.  A small brush of air-

She swallowed a smirk.  “Clint… stop reading my diary,” she mumbled as if in her sleep.  “You’ll see… everything…  No, no…”

“Oh, no, you caught me.  I’ll have to burn the evidence,” he drawled, and clicked a lighter.  She opened her eyes and smiled at him.  He let the lighter go out.  “How do you feel?”

The brunette grimaced.  “A bit like someone ran me over with a tractor.  Is Nat-?”

“She’s good, right, Tasha?”  Clint smirked at the closed partition.  The redhead’s glare was tangible.

Skye reached out and grasped the bed handle, half pushing and half pulling herself upright.  Clint’s protests were ignored in favor of battling down a wave of nausea.  She lost the fight, but not before he held a bin under her nose.

After her stomach was empty, Clint moved the bucket to the counter and she took the opportunity to throw her blankets off and move to the edge of the bed.  She couldn't stop shivering.

“Holy- dammit, Skye!  Stop, what are you- doing!”

Half off the bed, Clint in her way, she toppled forward into him.  He steadied her on her feet.  “Skye…?”

She shoved him back amidst frustrated tears.  “Stop.  I … Nat-”

Cool fingertips pressed against her lips and she looked up at the redhead.  She threw her arms around slim shoulders.  “I’m so sorry!”

“Oh man,” Clint breathed.

Natasha rubbed her back soothingly, edging the techie back to sit on the edge of the hospital bed.  “Alright, it’s okay, not your fault, Skye…”

After a minute, Skye pulled back, feeling wrung-out and more than slightly drugged.  “Sorry,” she said, giving Natasha a smile.  Clint was noticeably absent.

The redhead shrugged and moved the IV she was attached to so she could sit next to Skye on the bed.  “Don’t apologize.  It’s not your fault- none of it is, Skye.  Someone poisoned Tony’s scotch.  You both nearly died.”

Snorting, the techie leaned her head on Natasha’s shoulder.  “‘Nother day in the life then.  Which reminds me…”  She straightened and eyed her companion.  “Have any of my team showed up?”

Natasha smiled.  “Agents Ward, Fitz and Simmons.  There’s also a message from your CO.  He says to call him.”

The brunette felt a little warm inside at that.  “Aw, he’s so cute, worrying about _me_!” she said, smiling.

“Doesn’t seem too worried,” Natasha replied, face unreadable.  “He isn’t even here.”

Skye winced.  “Well you know how it is,” she said as vaguely as she could.  She couldn’t tell how well that was working, though, because Natasha’s non-expression didn’t change.  Quickly, the brunette babbled on.  “He’s a busy guy.  People to save, a team to wrangle, missions to do… Oh, and the plane, obviously, has to keep that running…”

“Skye.”

The word almost made her flinch- it said everything Natasha wasn’t.  It said Skye was a horrid liar, and terrible at deflection.  It said that Natasha wasn’t fooled; she knew the techie was hiding something big.  Worst; it said Natasha was about to ask what.

The redhead leaned into Skye’s personal space, lips a fraction of an inch away.  She met Skye’s gaze, green eyes searching.

The door slammed open.  “OH!  Oh my goodness, sorry, I’ll- we’ll come back-”

“Huh?  Why-?”

“No, no, shoo, out!”

As quickly as they’d entered, FitzSimmons were fleeing in a cloud of embarrassment and confusion.  Grant was left in their wake, looking devastated.  Natasha moved to slide off the bed, but froze when Skye interlaced their fingers firmly.  “Agent Ward.”

He flinched.  “Uh, Skye, I…  You’re up.”

“You’re interrupting,” she returned as calmly as she could with her heart in her throat.  Natasha was still stiff beside her, and she wondered what the redhead was thinking.

Grant forced himself to stand a little straighter and nodded once.  “Sorry.  I’ll go.  Agent Coulson wants you to contact him ASAP.”

The door clicked shut behind him, pitching their shared hospital room into silence.  A beat passed.  Natasha wasn’t looking at her, and Skye was panicking.  There was no way the redhead didn’t hear that.  Damn Grant and his big mouth!

“Natasha, I-”

The spy was sliding off the bed, though, and Skye closed her mouth.  Natasha stepped over to the phone on Skye’s bedside table and held it out.  “Call him.”

xXx

The next morning, a hand on Skye’s shoulder was shaking her awake, and she blinked up at the pair standing there.  “Agent Coulson?”

He smiled down at her, May behind him looking as unmoved as always.  “Hey, Skye.  How do you feel?”

She sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily.  When May held out a glass of water, she accepted it with a grateful smile.  “Thanks.  I’m okay.  Sore, tired, a little drug-foggy.  They want Tony and I to stay for 48 hour observation.”  She winced as she threw off her blankets.  “Hang on, nature calls.”

The agent helped her out of bed, and she took her IV to the bathroom.  She returned a few minutes later to find Clint and Natasha present, speaking quietly with Coulson and May.  The conversation cut off when the door swung shut behind her.  Natasha was unreadable, a trait she currently shared with May.  Clint looked annoyed, but that seemed to be aimed mostly at Coulson.  And her boss…  Well, he was also unreadable, though in a pleasant elderly man sort of way.

“May,” Coulson said, looking to the woman, “Could you see if there’s anything Skye can eat?”

May shot him a glance, but nodded and left.

Skye looked between the remaining trio nervously.  “Uh, should I go…?”

“Tony can’t know,” Coulson said over her, so she went back to her bed to watch.

Natasha crossed her arms and stared expressionlessly at the other agent.  Clint scoffed.  “Are you crazy?” he demanded incredulously.  “You realize he was uncontrollable by anyone but Pepper for months, right?”

Coulson frowned.  “I understand that, but-”

“You have no right to keep it from him,” Natasha said quietly.

The older man was quiet a beat.  “He’ll dig,” he said finally.  “Into everything, and I can’t have him finding out how I…”

Skye looked away, remembering their horrifying discovery.  Coulson had begged for death.  Begged…

Movement drew her eye to the camera mounted in the corner by the ceiling.  It was shifting just slightly, focusing on Coulson.  The man in question was reluctantly continuing.  “...came back.  It wasn’t good…  I can’t have him going after that too.”

Skye sighed.  “Too late.”  They all looked at her, and she shrugged.  “He hacked the camera.”

Natasha scowled at it, and shook her head.  “He has a private room upstairs.  You need to go talk to him.”

Coulson’s shoulders slumped.  He hesitated, then nodded, looking to Skye.  “I’ll be back, okay?”

The brunette nodded back.  “Go on.  No murder.”

“Of course not.”  His expression was suspiciously blank as he left.

Clint exhaled in his wake.  “So he’s your mysterious CO?  So much makes sense now.”  He gave Skye a small smile, which she returned meekly.

Natasha went back to her side of the room; she was still angry.  Skye winced, tucking her hair behind her ear.  “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys…  But, I mean, he said not to, and… God, you don’t understand what he was like when he found out!  He shut himself away for over a week, and wouldn’t tell us anything.  It was hard to watch- undoubtedly harder to experience.  I couldn’t disobey his wishes…”

There was a clunk behind Natasha’s partition.  Clint eyed the curtain.  “Tasha?”

The divider was shoved aside noisily, and the redhead emerged with her bag of belongings.  “I’m checking out,” she said, and added something in Russian to Clint.  He nodded, bewildered.

Skye watched helplessly as the other woman left without a single word to her.  She sighed.  “I… am the biggest screw up in history,” she decided sadly.

Clint gave her a sympathetic smile.  “You’re very good at it,” he agreed.

She shot him a glare.  “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”  He grinned and pulled up a chair.  “So.”  He pointed to a mysteriously appeared dart board on the wall with Loki’s picture pasted over it.  “Wanna learn how to throw darts with lethal precision?”

She gave him a wide smile.  “Clint, my friend, that is _absolutely_ what I want to do right now.”

He snickered and handed her a sharp dart.  She did okay.

xXx

Skye lay awake in the darkness, listening to the steady _click click click_ of the clock on the wall the night they were cleared to leave the hospital.  She’d ended up staying as long as Tony, half to keep him company and half because Fury wasn’t entirely sure it was safe to leave either of them to their own devices.  Or so Coulson said.

Sighing, she rolled over onto her side, trying to close her eyes and sleep.  The clicking changed to beeping, and her eyes flew open in fright, just as it had every time for the last three hours.  The wall stared back at her, mutely.

“JARVIS?” she whispered to the dark, half hoping he wouldn’t answer.

Of course he did.  “ _Yes, Miss Skye?  What do you require?_ ” the AI asked calmly.

She noted his volume was lower than normal.  Perhaps in response to her whispering; she wasn’t sure.  “Is Tony okay?”

JARVIS paused.  “ _Yes, ma’am.  He’s fine.  He asks that you join him for coffee in his suite._ ”

Without hesitation, she pushed the blankets off of her and rolled out of bed.  She finger-combed her hair in the elevator nervously, and smiled at Tony when she stepped into the penthouse living room.  “Hi.”

Tony held up a pair of mugs.  “Coffee?  Us insomniacs should stick together.  I also have the mini-bagels on the tray there if you’re feeling adventurous.  No alcohol, though, they cleared it all out for now.  Not that I imagine you want any…”

She smiled and accepted the mug he offered.  “Good call.”

He pretended not to eye her as they both got settled on one of the couches, and she pretended not to notice in return.  A few moments passed in companionable silence, neither quite feeling up to speaking for once, before she shifted in her seat to face him.  He looked up and smiled at her, and she swallowed hard.  Why wasn’t he angry with her, anyway?  She’d kept Coulson’s existence a _secret_ from day one.  Mostly because of orders, but also because she hadn’t known how they’d react…

“Tony?  Why aren’t you mad?  I’m totally getting the silent treatment from Nat, but you’re…?”  She gestured helplessly, at once hoping that she could convey her point and knowing she wasn’t.  “I don’t get it?”  That hadn’t been meant as a question, but apparently her mouth had other ideas.

Beside her, the billionaire exhaled slowly, staring down into his coffee like he was wishing it were alcohol.  “You know, shockingly enough, that poison was actually meant for me?”  His smile was bitter, the undercurrent to his words loud as a gong.  He was blaming himself for it all, for everything, and how was it possible to do that with an ego as huge as his was?

She frowned and shook her head.  “It’s not your fault, Tony, you know that, right?  You couldn’t have known, and anyway, you almost-”  She couldn’t say it, couldn’t admit it, because if she did…

“I almost died, yeah, I know,” he said for her, tone full of self-derision as he lifted his mug.  He gulped down a good half of it and laughed.  “It’s a habit of mine.  Almost dying.  Getting kidnapped.  Holy crap, I’m like the D.I.D. of the Avengers.”

She winced, but he was giving her a strange look now.  “Speaking of…  What d’you think would prompt Loki to save me?  Just out of curiosity.  He’s not really the _saving_ type, if you catch my drift.  I keep wondering if he’s going to pop up and say, ‘hah!  Psych!  You’re actually dead, Tony, didn’t you get the memo?’”

Suddenly, she found her lap _very_ interesting.  “Hm…  Who knows?” she hedged, around a sip of coffee.  “Trade or something, maybe?  That guy’s nuts, though.  No understanding him at all.  Maybe it was some weird unrelated reason, like he likes your shirt?”

Tony snorted and sat back against the cushions, thankfully looking away from her.  “Whatever it was, least I’m alive, right?”

That felt like a trap.  She half wondered if she said yes he’d accuse her of making deals with the Devil.  “There’s that,” she said, hesitantly, after a second.  She took another sip of coffee to avoid looking at him.

He shot her an unreadable look.  “Yeah,” he replied mildly.  A beat passed.  “Foosball?”  He smirked.

Smiling back at him, Skye got to her feet, and the other genius followed suit.  “You’re on.”

xXx

Clint found them curled up on the couch around noon the next day, and woke Skye with a touch to her shoulder.  He put a finger to his lips, blue eyes shifting to glance at Tony, who snorted softly and tightened his grip on Skye’s shoulders in his sleep.

Skye frowned.  ‘What?’ she mouthed at the archer.

He smiled at her.  “We’re going on a mission.  Won’t be back for a few days,” he whispered against her ear, and politely ignored the shiver it sent down her spine.  “I’ll text you if I can, to let you know we’re okay.”

She smiled at him.  “Thank you,” she whispered back.  “Be careful.”

Straightening, Clint reached out and brushed her hair out of her face.  He left her there curled up in Tony Stark’s arms like an over-sized teddy bear.  She exhaled slowly, and her bladder responded with a good morning.   _Uhg_.

She looked up at Tony, and decided she really didn’t want to chance waking him up.  Because, _really_ , she’d never seen him sleep so peacefully.  Or… at all, actually.  Tony always seemed to be bouncing from here to there, jabbering away at people, taunting and teasing and joking around like he hadn’t a care in the world.

Of course, she wasn’t really around all the time, so she knew he had to sleep, it was just that she’d never been present for it, so it was a strange thing to witness.  Also, the people she knew of late didn’t tend to sleep with her in the room.  All spies and scientists- the former would leave and she was pretty sure the latter functioned solely on caffeine and science-dust.  She wondered which category Tony fell into, or if - like he seemed to do with everything else - he simply made his own category and said ‘fuck you’ to the rest.

That was probably it, now that she thought about it.  He wasn’t exactly a conformist.  At all.

A soft hitch of his breathing drew her gaze back to his face, and she watched as his brow furrowed slightly.  His grip around her shoulders tightened and he mumbled something incoherent.  Dreaming, probably.  She wondered what he dreamed about…

“Stop…” he muttered, grip getting uncomfortably tight.  His breathing was speeding up, fingers digging into the skin of her arm.  “Obie…”

Alarm bells started going off in her head, and she reached up, giving his arm a hard pinch.  Tony woke with a start, eyes snapping open and immediately turning to her face.  A beat passed before he loosened his hold.  “Skye?”

She pulled back and smiled at him.  “Hiya.  You were having a bad dream, I think.  I decided it’d be a good idea to wake you up.  Want breakfast?  Donuts and coffee, on you!” she chirped, jumping to her feet.

“Uh, yeah…”  He blinked blearily after her as she waltzed to his en-suite kitchen.

Skye’s phone started to go nuts on the coffee table, and by the time she reached the table, Tony had it to his ear.  “Hello, Agent-”  He checked the screen, “Grant.  Sorry, Skye can’t come to the phone right now.  She’s being rather dirty in the kitchen…”

“Tony!” she yelped, lurching for him, but he vaulted the back of the couch to get away.  “Give it back!”

“Mmhm.  No, no, of course, I understand completely.  She’s _quite_ welcome, yes!”

“Tony,” Skye snarled, trying to chase him around the couch, but he darted off for the bedroom.  “ANTHONY STARK GIVE IT BACK!!!”

“Yes, sure!  Okay, have fun!  Buh-bye!”  He hung up, just as she crashed into him, sending them both toppling through the half-open door of his bedroom.

The room was a mess.  Everything inside was shredded, ripped and clawed, like some sort of animal had been put inside and let loose.  Tony tilted his head back to blink at the travesty as Skye sat up on his stomach and stared.  “Holy crap,” she muttered.  “It’s…”

“JARVIS…  Buddy,” Tony began.

“ _It’s most strange, sir, but I have no records of anything occurring in your bedroom until you entered it a moment ago_ ,” the AI said, sounding - for him - baffled.

Tony frowned.  “Well.”  He lowered his chin and quirked a brow at Skye.  “Not that you’re not gorgeous, my dear…”

She snorted and rolled off him, going right to her feet.  The many hours of training with Grant were paying off, it would seem.  “Shut up, Tony.  What did Grant want?”

The billionaire clambered to his feet and eyed the room.  “I think we need to call your Grant back.  There appears to be a theme going on here.  Your room on the plane was inexplicably trashed, as were your quarters at ‘base’....  JARVIS, out of curiosity, are there any other rooms that suffered the same fate?”

There was a pause as JARVIS went over the tower.  Then, “ _Yes sir.  It would appear both Agent Romanoff’s and Agent Barton’s rooms are in a similar state of disarray._ ”

Tony looked at Skye again, and she blinked back at him.  “What?”

“... nothing.  JARVIS, call Agent Grant and tell him to come visit.  Get ahold of Romanoff, Clint and Fury if you can, too.  Coulson as well,” Tony rattled off, stooping to scoop Skye’s phone off the ground.  He swung his arm around her shoulders.  “Let’s go get some food.  I’ll have someone come clean this up later.”

“Okay…  Uh, Tony, are you not telling me something?” she asked, frowning as she let him direct her back to the kitchen.

“Why would I be not telling you something?” he asked innocently.

She glared at him.  “I don’t know- petty revenge, a mistaken sense of overprotection…  ‘Lawls’.”

Tony laughed and tugged open the fridge.  “Yes, vengeance.  I like that one!  I have a vendetta against Skye the Gorgeous!”

“ _Stop_ ,” she groaned, half playfully.  “Seriously, though, Tony.  I hate surprises.”

“Of course you do, you’re a hacker,” he replied with the sort of smug arrogance unique to people slipping self-congratulations into compliments to others.  He went on.  “Don’t worry, Skye.  You can trust me.”  White teeth sparkled when he grinned at her dubious look.  “I’m Iron Man.”

The brunette rolled her eyes hard.  “I know, you don’t let any of us forget it…”

As they’d bantered, Tony had begun mixing waffle batter, and now handed her a mug.  “Start the coffee.  Enough for twenty.  Thor may wander up at any point.  I swear he’s got the nose of a bloodhound when food’s involved.”

She laughed and took the symbol of her new ‘office’ over to the coffee pot.  They lapsed into companionable silence until Tony gave a shout of surprise.  She whirled while he began to curse at the first arrivals, and stared.

Clint was seated at the small table in the corner of the kitchen, looking amused, and to Skye’s left stood Natasha.  Her hip was braced against the counter, shoulder-length hair caught back in a low braid.  She wore mission gear - as did her partner - and those pretty eyes were fixed on Skye herself.  She said nothing, though; Clint spoke up instead.

“Fury called us off our mission.  Attacked _again_ , Tony?” the archer teased lightly.

Skye and Tony exchanged a look.  “Not so much,” the billionaire admitted.  “Room was trashed, but we’d conked out on the couch.”

Natasha looked at him finally.  “We?” she echoed.

His hands shot up quickly; Clint hid a smirk in his mysteriously-appeared coffee mug.  “ _Sound of Music_ in the AM.  That’s all, I swear.  Wasn’t taking advantage of your girlfriend or _anything_.”

“Mine and your rooms were broken into too,” Skye was quick to insert.  Inwardly, she was grinning however.  Was that what jealousy looked like on Natasha?  Also, she _didn’t_ fail to notice how the redhead hadn’t yet to deny the ‘girlfriend’ comment.  By Tony’s grin, he hadn’t either.

“Yeah,” Clint agreed, unsurprised.  “Fury mentioned.  We checked before we came back up here.  Tasha’s has the worst of it.  I can’t believe they even got-”

He never finished his sentence.  One moment, Skye was standing over a coffee pot, mug in hand, and the next, a hand was wrapped around her throat.  “Time for you to pay your debts,” a voice hissed in her ear, and she was dragged through a whirlpool of color.

Her knees felt weak when they were under her again, and she suspected the only thing keeping her up was his grasp on her throat.  He hissed lowly and released her; she stumbled away, back smacking into a wall, and watched him reach over his shoulder.  He jerked his arm and pulled a wicked dagger forward, covered in blood.  His smirk was amused.  “It would seem the Lady Natasha was _not_ so pleased with my return…”

Naturally, Loki would survive that.  She was so fucked.  “Uh.  Debts?” she prompted, wanting to talk about anything but her relationship with Natasha.  Especially to Mr. Bag of Cats.

“Ah yes.”  He wiped the blade off and flicked it at her.  It disappeared before it hit its mark.  “The staff.  Last we spoke, you promised its location.”

“Yeah, and I told you where it was- at least the last time I’d heard anything about it,” she admitted guiltily.

Loki actually rolled his eyes at her.   _Loki_.  Rolled his eyes.  That was so bizarre.  “Indeed, and as you said, it was there.”

She frowned, bemused, and glanced around.  They were in some sort of rock cavern- definitely _not_ the staff’s location.  “Uh.  Okay.  Great.  Congrats?”  She paused, and he quirked a brow.  “... then what am I doing here?”

His smile was pure poison.  “It requires access from a SHIELD agent, which I believe you were made officially of late, were you not?”

Skye couldn’t help giving a little flail.  “What?!  No, that was _not_ in the deal!”

“Oh, no!  Of course not,” he agreed with such sincerity that she was having a hard time believing it.  “I shall just go kill the man of iron and we can part ways.”  He turned.

She bit.  “NO!”

Loki halted mid-step and looked back at her over his shoulder, brow arched in an ‘I’m listening’ expression.  She lowered her gaze from his, barely glimpsing the wicked tear in his clothing from Natasha’s knife, and he turned to face her once more.  “Please don’t.  Look, I can’t- if I get caught…   _When_ I get caught…”  She looked up at him.  “You can’t!  Don’t you see?  If I do something like that again, they’ll never trust me.  Never.”

He looked frankly fascinated.  “Again, you say?  Why, Skye, I had not known you were a rebel.  How curious.”

She groaned and covered her face with a hand.  That was it, then.  All that work to make up for her mistakes, to earn their trust like someone that belonged…  all of it would go down the drain.  Just because she made a _stupid_ deal.  Sighing, she finally looked back at him to find his hand outstretched, long pale fingers slightly curled.  Skye swallowed and took it.

This time, she was more prepared for the rush of vertigo and the vortex of color.  Her knees locked against it, and the underground room they appeared in didn't spin.

"There," Loki said, pointing to a reinforced door.

She eyed the panel beside it as she approached, and only hesitated briefly.  Sucking in a breath, she placed her palm on the scanner and keyed in her access code.  The red LED flashed green; the world turned white-hot.

Darkness fell.

xXx

When Skye woke, her head was in Clint's lap, and she was stretched out on Tonys couch.  Natasha stood stiffly by her feet.  Fury was reclining in a kitchen chair placed across from them.  Watching Skye.

"Welcome back to the world of the waking," the Director started.  "You are hereby relieved of duty and placed under house arrest, restricted to Avengers Tower until I decide to let you go."

Actually, that was a pretty fair reaction, considering.  "Are there anti-kidnap bracelets?" she asked hopefully.

His brow lifted.  "If only."

"Damn."  She eyed the tracker already fastened to her wrist.

A glass of honey-colored liquid was lowered into her line of sight, and she tilted her head back against Clints thigh to smile at Tony.  He was leaning over the back if the couch.  "That's been tested," he reassured her as she took the scotch. 

"Great," she said, and sat up.  The techie promptly knocked it back, then let Clint hand the empty glass off to Tony.

Fury snorted.  "Care to tell us what the Hell happened back there?"

Grimacing, Skye dropped her feet to the floor and reclined against the couch.  Clint slung his arm up along its back to half-curl around her shoulders, while Natasha took the freed up seat.  Sitting there, surrounded by three Avengers - Tony was still standing behind her - it occurred to Skye that they'd probably insisted that she be confined _here_ .  She didn't have an actual _home_ , after all.  In fact, Avengers Tower was the closest she'd come to 'home' in a very long time.

"Skye?" Clint prompted gently.

She sighed and looked back at Tony, who wiggled his bottle of scotch invitingly.  The brunette smiled, shook her head, and looked at Director Fury.  "It started when we were poisoned.  I was drifting, aimless, searching.  I think... I think I was dying.  Time was running out.  I could- In the background, I could hear them trying to save Tony's life.

"Then she was there.  She was beautiful, this woman.  Dark hair and green eyes.  She told me that the doctors wouldn't save me.  She said they were more worried about Tony and Nat...  She said she'd save me."

Skye gave in then, when Tony offered more alcohol.  She sipped it, letting it warm her bones.  It went down smooth as silk.  "All I had to do was give her Agent Coulson.  I don't know why she was asking _me_...  But she did.  I said no.  Then Tony flatlined."

Something clinked, and for the first time, Skye realized Bruce was in the room.  She watched him sit back in his window seat, eyes closed.  Tony's face was unreadable.

"Suddenly, the woman was Loki, and he asked..."  She swallowed the rest of her drink.  "He asked if Tony was my price.  But I couldn't do it.  I couldn't pick between Tony and Coulson..."

Fury looked thoughtful.  "So you offered the staff."

Skye nodded.  "It was the only other thing I could think of that he might be interested in.  Obviously, he took the deal.  Tony got better."

"Yeah, dream-walking is a weird thing," the billionaire said thoughtfully, inviting Fury's unimpressed look.  "Showed up, said I had a guardian angel, and zapped me.  Next I knew, I was waking up to Cap's ugly mug-"

"Shut up, Tony," Steve piped up.  He'd been standing in the doorway for... well, Skye had no clue how long.  Wow, she needed to pay more attention.  A quick glance around the room told her that Coulson was also present, but that was it.

She bit her lip when she met her boss' gaze, but relaxed as he smiled faintly.  Fury cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him.  "So, breaking into the staff's vault?"

Skye winced.  "Well, he couldn't get into the vault for whatever reason...  So he grabbed me and made me."  She sighed.

Clint snorted abruptly.  “Lemme guess; he threatened Tony again?”  At her nod, he made a disgusted noise.  “Figures.  Bastard.”  He lowered a hand to absently tug at the ends of her hair, which felt kind of _nice_ , actually…

“Seems like Loki’s got your number, Skye,” Director Fury commented, sitting back in his seat.  “This is an issue that needs to be fixed.”

The techie swallowed nervously, eyes wide.  “Uh…  How?” she asked, although she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know his answer.

Fury spread his hands.  “I think we both know that answer, Skye.”

“Capture Loki,” Natasha inserted abruptly.

Fury gave her a considering look.  “Maybe.  But he’s given us the slip before.  Why would this time be any different, Agent Romanoff?”

The redhead’s face was stone.  “Because we have what he wants.”

Skye blinked at her.  "He already has the staff," she said blankly.

Coulson smiled.  "Not its crystal, though."

Looking thoughtful, Fury leaned back in his seat.  "That's true," he agreed.  "Dr. Michaels removed it for further study.  Replaced it with a lesser active rock.  Some experiment or another.  Hill's covering that."

"Shhh!" Tony hissed, grinning.  "That's supposed to be a secret!"

The Director looked unimpressed.  "Yeah, and yet _someone_ keeps making comments on Dr. Michaels' notes."

"His equations were wrong," the billionaire defended.  "He needed to know.  So he could do them right next time."

Natasha rolled her eyes.  "Back on topic, please.   _Before_ Loki finds out and snatches Skye again."

Paling, the brunette turned to her girlfriend.  "You think he'd do that?"

"He already has," the redhead replied, eying her.

Skye had no answer for that, because it was true.  He'd taken her, right in front of the Avengers, and suffered no worse for it than the equivalent of a pin-prick.  For the first time since she had lingered in an old cafe, peering up at a news report of Manhattan during the attack last year, she realized that Loki was a dangerous, powerful being, capable of pretty much anything.

It scared her to death.

xXx

Tony sat in the cool confines of one of the conference rooms in the Tower, staring down at the table without even seeing it.  The Avengers had a problem, in the form of the hacktivist prodigy Skye- AKA Natasha's girlfriend.

Not to say that Skye herself was a problem- quite the contrary.  He actually really liked the woman.  (As a person, generally, but it didn't hurt that she was a babe.)  They held a lot of the same interests, and on top of it, she was a genuinely nice person with a firm moral compass.  Like Cap, but smarter.

No, the problem she presented was much harder to solve, and was less her fault than her rotten luck.  Somehow, someway, Skye had garnered the interest of the alien psychopath Loki.  No, not simply 'interest'; the nutcase was clearly fixated on the poor girl.

"Uhg, and I have no idea how to stop it," the billionaire muttered under his breath.  He reached out to brush his fingers over the top of the marble-and-glass conference table, watching it light up.

He brought up a few security feeds absently, and blinked at what he was seeing.  "What  _ are _ you doing?" he wondered, tapping the picture to zoom in on the figure.  Specifically, his hands, currently putting something, or messing  _ with _ something, under Skye's pillow.

"JARVIS, confirm the identity of that man," Tony demanded.

" _ SHIELD most wanted criminal, Loki Odinson, sir.  Shall I alert Director Fury _ ?" his AI inquired curiously.

Tony thought about it.  "Nah.  Invite him for coffee in the penthouse."

JARVIS' response was dry but unsurprised.  " _ Of course, sir.  I'll start the coffee pot _ ."

Hopping to his feet, the billionaire headed for the elevator.  "Are you getting cheeky with me?" he demanded.

" _ I've no idea what you mean, sir.  I live to serve, quite literally _ ."

Tony frowned.  "That's it, I'm taking away your anime privileges.  No more late night Death Note for you!"

There was no response, which made Tony smirk, and he stepped out of the elevator to find Loki reclining on his couch.  "Welcome to the Machine, Loki.  Glad you could make it!"

A dark brow went up.  "I was intrigued by your invitation, man of iron.  To what do I owe such pleasure?"

"Just a little curious, actually," Tony said, heading for the mini bar.  "Mostly what you want with Skye, but also what you're planning in general.  Scotch?  I've also got...  Vodka.  Pumpkin.  Where did that even come from??"  He pulled the bottle out of its place on the shelf, vaguely remembering something about a bet with Rhodey.

Loki's smooth tenor interrupted his distracted musings.  "The scotch, thank you."

It didn't escape Tony's notice that Loki hadn't answered his question.  Even so, he poured them both a glass and brought it over, fearlessly standing before the 'god'.  Or he hoped fearlessly.  His knees weren't shaking at least.

~~~~


	2. A Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supernatural verse- DeanxCas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's super short. It didn't even really get up off the ground...

It was dark, near midnight, but Dean couldn’t sleep.  His soulless brother was gone, and the sounds of the street beyond were nearly deafening.  He just wanted to sleep, but it wasn’t going to happen.  So, with a sigh, he threw off the blankets and turned... and froze.  Castiel stood in front of the window, his silhouette unmistakable.

Swallowing as he took in the hunched shoulders, felt the intense stare, Dean spoke up.  “Cas?  You okay?”

“Things are not well,” Castiel responded quietly.  “I had hoped for a reprieve...”

Dean inched forward, a few steps closer to his angel.  “Alright.  Well, come sit down.  You’ve got it.”

Castiel’s shoulders only seemed to slump further.  "Thank you, Dean," he said quietly, and walked over to sit on the edge of Dean's bed.


	3. Because a Tower Full of Genii is Actually Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avengers x Artemis Fowl. Artemis arrives for a meeting with Dr. Banner. Naturally, this means that Tony gets curious.

It was like a technological candy land.  That was the first thing the young man thought upon entering Avengers Tower, bodyguard looming over his shoulder.  All around them, the place was set up to look like some sort of futuristic business, when in reality, everyone knew it was the base of America’s Greatest Heroes.

Ahead of them, at the desk near the front, was an oddly dressed blond man, leaning over to murmur to the woman working there.  She laughed softly, shaking her head, and made a shooing gesture as she spotted Artemis Fowl the Second.

_ This is my chance _ , the youth thought, approaching them.

The blond had turned to eye them both, particularly Butler, and blinked when Artemis spoke.

“My name is Artemis Fowl the Second, and I am here to meet Dr. Banner.”

The woman tapped away at the keys on her keyboard briefly, then gave him a bright smile.  “You’re his six O’clock.  Ah, but I must ask that you discard any weapons, photography equipment and anything that can be viewed as a threat...”  She shifted her gaze toward Butler, but at least had the intelligence not to demand he stay behind.

Artemis smiled, and dropped his cell phone and a pocket knife into the bucket she provided.  “I’ll be back for those,” he told her, and turned toward the elevator nearby.

“I shall lead the way,” the blond said, hurrying to catch up.  It didn’t take much.  “Tell me, friend, are you an Earth warrior?  Your movements speak of it!”

Butler quirked a brow, and Artemis snorted.  “He’s my bodyguard, Thor Odinson.  It’s his job to protect me.”

“I see...”  The blond eyed the Fowl heir as they stepped into the elevator, curious.  He pressed the button for floor 30.  “Well, protecting is a noble pursuit.  Artemis, you said?  Well met!”

The young man found him a bit...  _ too _ cheerful, but held his hand out anyway.  “Likewise, Mr. Odinson.”

The prince grinned and gave him a powerful shake.  “Thor shall do.  You are among friends.”

_ Right _ .  The elevator beeped, and the doors opened onto a long, empty hallway of the Sci-Fi futuristic variety.  Thor did not step out with them.

“Just down the hall.  The last door on the left before the turn,” the blond informed them, with the cadence of someone repeating directions he’d once heard himself.  “I must be going.  Have luck!”

Artemis watched until the door closed again between them, and then started in the direction indicated.  The door they approached opened before they reached it, and a small man stepped out, only maybe four inches taller than Artemis himself.  He had black hair with streaks of grey, hunched shoulders and a cautious hint to his movements, as if each and every moment was catalogued and processed before it even happened.

He gave a forced smile.  “I was under the impression that I’d be meeting with the... ah, elder Fowl,” he said, glancing at Butler with an unreadable expression.

Shaking his head, the young man held out a hand.  “I apologize, but no.  My father is incapable of meeting with anyone at this time.  I hope I will suffice.”

Dr. Banner eyed his hand, and eventually shook it.  “Yes, of course.  I assume you took the time to study the material I sent him?”

“I did,” Artemis said, stepping back again.  “It’s quite brilliant, actually.  Not that I’m surprised.  I follow your work, when I can.”

Brown eyes narrowed slightly as Banner’s brows furrowed.  “Really?” he asked.

Artemis nodded.  “Your work on genetic mutation, as well as on chemical effects in the human body.  Though perhaps testing on yourself is a bit reckless.”

The other man chuckled.  “Congratulations.  You’re one of six people that makes fun of me.”  He shook his head and stepped aside, motioning for Artemis to enter the room.  “Big guy stays out here, by the way, but the door won’t be locked.”

“I understand,” the youth responded, and nodded for Butler to obey the man’s wishes.  “Do you have a model for it?”

“Right this way...”

xXx

Tony stepped from the elevator, and his brows arched upon seeing the massive, suited man outside Bruce’s lab.  He came to a stop in front of the guy and crossed his arms, eying him thoughtfully.

“You’re huge,” he declared.  “Big as Thor.  That’s impressive, actually.”

The man didn’t smile.  “Can I help you?”

“Nope,” Tony said cheerfully, and the door opened.  “Ah, Brucey.  Adopting?”

The man in the door frowned at him, while the kid beyond him at the lab table rolled his eyes very expressively.  “Tony, I’m beginning to wonder if you ever aged past ten.  In or out.  I don’t have time to listen to you insult my guests.”

Tony held up his hands in surrender.  “In.  Always in.  Every time.”  He smirked and strolled past his friend, walking over and tugging the microscope away from the kid.  He peeked into it for a beat, until Bruce grabbed his arm and tugged him away.  “What?  I was curious.”

“You’re nosy.  What do you want, Tony?” Bruce demanded.  “I told you, this is my lab.  I don’t want you touching things.  You stay with the tech in the work shop, and I stay in my lab with my experiments.”

“Oh, you’re still angry about the therapist thing...”  Tony grinned when Bruce scowled at him.  “Well, it’s your fault for misadvertising.”

Bruce drew a breath and let it out.  “I did not misadvertise.  I never said I was a psychologist.  You just decided to ignore the addendum to  _ Dr. _ and start babbling away like I was one.  What.  Do you.  Want?”

Tony had to give him that one, and so pulled up a stool and sat.  “I was bored.  You always make the adrenaline flow.”

“I won’t apologize if I end up killing you some day,” Bruce replied flatly.

“Aww, you won’t kill me.  You love me too much.”

There was a snort, abruptly reminding them both that they had an audience.  "If Mr. Stark is going to linger, shall we get back to it?"

Sighing, the scientist nodded and stepped back over.  "As you saw, the mutation occurred at a rate unheard of, especially considering that the cellular structure  _ began _ as human, and then returned to it."  That was about the time Tony tuned him out, and started looking around the lab boredly.  Searching for something to do.

When nothing came up, he chose a victim instead, and he had to wonder about a kid sitting here listening to borderline insane chemistry (which is what it all boiled down to, honestly).  "Do you even understand him?" Tony interrupted, ignoring the brow furrow this elicited from Bruce.

At the question, Artemis quirked a brow.  "Yes.  Did you have something useful to contribute to the discussion?  Or do you merely intend on pestering until you cause an incident?"

"Probably the latter.  You're very snooty."

"I've earned the right to be."

"Have you?"

Bruce groaned.  "Both of you, knock it off."

Tony gave him a look of utmost abandonment.  “I knew it,” he breathed, clutching his heart.  It was amusing to watch both of them frown in a mixture of confusion and irritation.  “Bruce…”

He could read Bruce’s expression perfectly.  It was saying,  _ I’m going to regret asking this, but… _  “What?” he sighed in surrender.

Making a show of swallowing hard, Tony wondered if his eyes were watering as much as it seemed like.  “You’re cheating on me with the gorilla and the kid, aren’t you?”

“Chea- Tony, you have to be in a relationship to cheat on someone, for one.  And for another, I am  _ not a pedophile _ .”  Ohhh yeah, Bruce looked distinctly green around the gills at that one.  And not in the fun rage monster way.  “Also not doing anything with Mr. Butler, either.  Christ, Stark, really?”

_ Downgraded to Stark.  Need to make an apology then. _  “Ah, you’re right, Mr. Wayne.  What was I thinking?  Kids.  Pfft.  Incidentally, if you put me and you together, you have Batman.  I mean, even the scary internal rage fits!  Though, granted, he doesn’t morph into the Green Giant when someone threatens his sandbox-”

The corner of Bruce’s lips twitched, the first sign of his victory.  “Say ‘you and I’.”

Yeah.  Not happening.  “Me and you.”

“You and I.”

“Me and-”

“Tony.”

At least he was Tony again.  “Me and you-”

xXx

Artemis decided shortly after that, that having Stark in the room meant no one would get any work done at all.  He queried where he could find food - either in or out of the tower - and was directed to the kitchen, shadowed of course by Butler.

He got lost on the way.

_ Must have gotten off on the wrong floor _ , the youth thought irritably, but continued walking down his present corridor just in case, searching.  A pained grunt drew his attention, and curious, he wandered toward a door down the hall, and opened it slightly to peek inside.

A redhead went flying into the closest wall.  Her opponent was Thor, standing in full armour with his hammer grasped in one hand.  Both drew things quickly to a stop, their attention shifting to Artemis.

“Who’re you?” the redhead demanded.  “JARVIS, why is there a kid-”

“Ah, Friend Artemis!” Thor cried, brightening and halting the woman’s demands for information.  The blond dropped his hammer onto a bench and smiled Artemis’ way, so the youth judged it safe enough to venture further inside.  “What brings you here?  Perhaps your guard of the body wishes to spar?”

Artemis wondered at how eager Thor looked at the thought, and shook his head.  “Lost, actually,” he said mildly.  “I was looking for the kitchen, and heard you… sparring.”

The redhead had crossed her arms by this point, and was now staring right at him.  “The kitchen is two floors up,” she said flatly, blatantly suspicious.

“Ah,” Artemis replied, and nodded.  “Thank you, then, Miss…?”

“Romanoff,” she answered.

_ Ah.  Agent Natasha Romanoff of SHIELD, then.  How intriguing. _  Artemis smiled at her, and tried not to let it widen at her immediate increase of suspicion.  “Thank you again, Miss Romanoff.  Two floors up.”  He closed the door between them and started for the elevator.

Three seconds later, Butler spoke up.  “Artemis… what are you doing?”

“Doing?” he echoed, trying for innocence, but frankly he always had failed at it.  Dramatically.  “I’m doing nothing.  Hush.  JARVIS, huh?  So you’re actually real, that’s impressive.”

Butler got the point, especially when Artemis was answered.  “ _ Thank you, Mr. Fowl _ .”

The youth chuckled.  “You can make sure I don’t get lost again, can you not?”

“ _ Of course, Mr. Fowl.  I assume you can make it up two floors? _ ”

Oh yes, this was definitely Tony Stark’s AI, and Artemis hadn’t even known the man that long.  The genius stepped over to the elevator, and pressed the button for two floors up when both he and his body guard were inside.  Two floors later, “Well?”

“ _ Please take a right from here.  At the end of the hall, a left, and it’s the third door on the left _ ,” JARVIS reported succinctly.

“Much obliged,” the youth said, and continued on.

A redheaded woman - not Natasha - and a blond man were in the kitchen.  “-told me he can’t ‘get down with that’.  It was just a simple request, I don’t see why he has to be such a  _ jerk _ ,” the blond was muttering to the woman, who nodded and patted his shoulder sympathetically.  She didn’t look surprised though.

“Tony takes a… special kind of tolerance.  I’m really sorry, Steve,” she said, and turned her attention onto Artemis and Butler.  “Hello, Master Fowl, Mr. Butler.  I’m making lasagna, sandwiches and there are bags of chips.  For lunch.  I hope that’ll suffice…?”

Well, it wasn’t totally to his taste, but Artemis was a guest here.  “That’ll suffice,” he agreed mildly.


	4. Between Right and Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tale of sacrifice, love, and the difference between right and wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the Seer is an OC. She's one of my favorites, so please be kind

The girl standing in the lobby is, at best, a mystery.  No one can explain her presence, beyond the fact that she is soaking wet and dripping water all over the recently-polished floor.  Tony’s excuse was that she looked too pathetic to leave out in the rain.

And so, much like a rescued puppy, they have a new occupant in Avengers Tower.

Bruce can honestly say he has no idea what to do with her, but apparently letting her in is as far as Tony’s willing to take the Good Sammy act.  The billionaire has already vacated the lobby, leaving chemist and redhead standing there staring at each other.

The first thing he really notes, upon looking her over more closely, is that her face is void of expression.  Dark red eyes stare back at him- literal red eyes, as in the irises, not the rims- and watch his every move until he sighs and offers her a faint smile.

“Would you like something to eat?” he asks, and she simply nods.  “This way, then.”

The elevator ride up to the kitchen level is spent in awkward silence, until she turns her gaze onto him and offers her name.  “I am the Seer.”  Sort of.

“A seer?” he echoes, bewildered, and she nods.  “Erm.  Okay…  So… you see things in a crystal ball?”

“Not just,” the redhead tells him, still staring.  “Any reflective surface suits my talent.”  She shrugs and turns away from him as the door opens, sweeping through it confidently.

Outside, Logan is midstep, a piece of toast hanging from his mouth.  The Seer tilts her head and stares back at him, until Bruce clears his throat.  “We’re heading to the kitchen,” he explains to Logan.

The Seer herself does not wait to hear his response, and walks off, leaving Bruce to wonder if she knows where the kitchen is.  “Right,” is all Logan says before he, too, departs, in the opposite direction.

Bruce can sympathize.

He follows her into the kitchen, to discover that she's not only made herself at home, but is apparently ravenous.  "Where are your parents?" he asks after a few minutes.

She pauses mid-bite, looking up at him blankly.  "At home," is the eventual, confused, response before she goes back to it.

Bruce sighs and starts to make tea.  He wonders what her story is, why she doesn't live with her family, and most importantly, what she's doing _here_ , of all places.  Her dishes clink behind him.  "I'm not an adolescent," she tells him.  "I'm twenty four."

He doesn't tell her that's practically a kid compared to him.  "Okay.  Would you like some tea?"

"I prefer coffee," she replies, so he makes her some.  When he hands it to her, she glances in and goes still.

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asks absently, reaching for the sugar and milk.  When she doesn't respond, he glances at her.  "Seer?"

Red eyes lift finally, and she declares calmly, without pause, "The world will burn to the bitter end, torn apart by strife.  A greeting full of promises heralds the dark goodbye-hello.  When no chance remains but death, the bastard saves the worlds."

Bruce can only stare at her, the sugar in his hand forgotten.   _Reflective surfaces_ , of course.  His eyes flick down to the mug of coffee streaming between her hands.  She tilts her head at him in question, but he shakes his.  "Is that some sort of prophecy?"

"It is what I saw, yes," she agrees, as if that was that.  She sips her coffee black and doesn't say another word.

xXx

He finds her the next day in Clint’s favorite training room, watching said archer shoot arrow after arrow at a line of targets.  When she notices Bruce, she tilts her head.  “Is he trying to challenge himself?”

“I imagine not,” he replies slowly, dryly.  “It’s not much of a challenge.”

“No…  I didn’t think so either,” she agrees, and goes back to watching the archer.

It takes Bruce nearly five minutes to realize she’s staring at Clint's ears.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SHIELD is interested in Agent Olivia Dunham. Peter doesn't really like that.

There were few truly talented people.  Many were great, well taught, even-tempered enough to be  _ damn _ good at what they did.  But so few  _ talented _ people were born, and even fewer of them accomplished things.

Those few that did, were generally sought out by SHIELD and employed in some manner or another.  Which was why, at 10:23 in the morning, Agent Phil Coulson was stepping into a large lab at Harvard University.

Not far away, there was a glitter of electricity from what appeared to be a small Tesla Coil generator.  The trio surrounding it all jumped back in tandem.  The old man laughed.

Actually, this man - Walter - had also been one that SHIELD had considered for employment of some manner.  However, after a thorough review of the man’s day-to-day life, and decision making processes, it was determined that the man was better left alone where he was.  Under the care of his son, Peter.  Also brilliant, if a bit displaced, but SHIELD had more use for him as Walter’s caretaker than anything else.

Coulson smiled slightly.  He linked his hands together before him, and leaned his weight back on his heels.  Then he cleared his throat.

Astrid - Walter’s lab assistant - turned first, followed by Peter and Walter.  Together, they blinked.  Peter’s brow furrowed.  “Um...  where’s Agent Dunham?” he asked, looking confused.

“Actually, I’m here to talk to you about her,” Coulson replied with a slight smile.  “Should only take about ten minutes.”

Peter was frowning now, shoulders stiffening in the same sort of defensiveness that the Agent often saw in Tony Stark, but that was another story entirely.

In any case, he needed to make sure the man wouldn’t lock up on him.  “It’s actually about a possible promotion,” he admitted, walking forward as he eyed the contents of the lab.  Hm... was that tree over there moving?  “But we need to make sure she’s not any sort of liability first.”

“And if she is?”

Coulson wondered if Mr. Stark and the younger Mr. Bishop would get along, or hate each other.  “Then she’ll be rejected, and face the risk of losing the job she has now,” he said honestly, and paused beside a tin of boiling liquid.  He only caught a whiff before he side stepped.  “Should you have that, Dr. Bishop?”

“Oh...”  The old man came over and picked the tin up with clamps.  “You weren’t supposed to see that.  Do I smell mint?”

Coulson reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack of gum.  “Would you like some?”

Walter beamed as he handed the clamps - burden and all - over to Astrid.  “Oh, yes, please,” he said eagerly, returning to Coulson’s side.  He accepted a stick as he peered into the Agent’s face.  “You look familiar.  Have we met?”

“No.  I just have one of those faces,” Phil replied, pulling out a card as Walter popped his gum into his mouth.  “I’m Agent Coulson of SHIELD.”

The doctor accepted the card.  “Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division...  Sounds egotistical,” he said, and handed the card off to his son as he lost interest and wandered away.

Peter eyed the card now clasped firmly between his fingers, then looked up at Coulson.  “What does  _ SHIELD _ want with Agent Dunham?” he demanded.

Oh, that was an interesting tone.  That tone said, ‘ _ I know what SHIELD really is _ ,’ and, ‘ _ I don’t like it _ .’  “Nothing  _ bad _ -” Coulson began to assure him, but Peter backed up two steps, and shook his head.   _ Just great _ .

Fortunately, the door behind Coulson opened again, and a woman spoke up, voice like a whip.  “What’s going on here?”

Coulson turned, and upon seeing Agent Dunham, decided he liked her.  Definitely had to make sure this went off without a hitch, but...  “Ah, there was a bit of a misunderstanding.  I should have been more delicate in my approach of Mr. Bishop there...”

“This guy’s from  _ SHIELD _ ,” Peter reported, and looked like he would have gone on, but Dunham shook her head firmly.

“I know who he is,” she replied flatly, and at Coulson’s surprised look, quirked a brow.  “Fringe  _ did _ notice the men tailing Dr. Bishop.  I was expecting someone to come eventually....?”

Oh yes.  She was definitely a good choice for this role.  “Absolutely.  Agent Coulson, nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand.

She gave it a terse shake and stepped back.  “Nice to meet you, Agent Coulson.”

He smiled, glancing once more over this little science sanctuary, and then met her gaze.  “Is there somewhere else we can talk?”

Agent Olivia Dunham gave him a once over, and nodded.  Peter looked annoyed, but he didn’t try to stop them from leaving the room.  Neither of them spoke for the block it took to get to a little cafe, or through ordering - pie for him, bagel for her - until after they’d gotten their coffee.


End file.
